What do you see? He is invisible
Yet all creation knows Him. Listen:
The birds slow their flight for Him; leaves glisten
In all His coloured light. Impossible
Strains of symmetry glide through chaos: simple
In their dignity, yet rich in vision.
Catch the smallest glimpse, the grandest impression:
He is more – glorious, indivisible.
Eye cannot see; microscope cannot capture
Yet soon He will break from Godhead to be
Zygotic, a blip. Consider the rapture,
The folly. Look at the Father and see
The crimson of life, the brown of this hay,
The exploding grace of the rainbow.
The Consolations of Writing 